


Oh Be Careful What it Takes

by Anonymous



Category: Divergent (Movies), Divergent Series - Veronica Roth
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, But still unquestionable Eris so /shrug emoji/, Canon-Typical Violence, Choosing Ceremony (Divergent), Dauntless (Divergent), F/M, Like pre-pre-pre-relationship tbh, Pre-Relationship, Tris as the only transfer in her Initiate class
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 17:47:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29122155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Within the towering walls of Chicago, there are five factions with simple rules. Once one chooses which to join when coming of age, they are one of them forever. Leaving your faction of birth is a betrayal that cannot be mended. Beatrice Prior is ready to make the hard choice to remain in Abnegation to keep their family together right up until her brother abandons them for Erudite. With Caleb gone, remaining in the smothering grip of Abnegation for the rest of her life is too much for Beatrice. She runs away to Dauntless in hopes of becoming stronger, braver, and most importantly, happier than she would be stuck in the selfless life she was expected to lead.
Relationships: Eric/Tris Prior
Comments: 7
Kudos: 12
Collections: Five Figure Fanwork Exchange 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Corina (CorinaLannister)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CorinaLannister/gifts).



It didn’t seem fair to Beatrice that not only did she have to spend the entire morning of Choosing Day dodging her parent’s oh-so-knowing glances but that they all had to make the long walk to the Hub together. The busses were all full before they even got to the end of the block, and they couldn’t be so rude as to impose on the Black family to drive any of them. The car would only have fit at most another one or two people and of course if any Prior was going to get to ride in a car then it would be expected of them to offer it to one of the others. All of that amounted to  _ no _ Priors being able to join Susan and Robert’s family in the car. 

So Beatrice trudged along next to Caleb with her arms alternating between folding across her chest and swinging fitfully by her sides when she could no longer ignore her father’s chiding expression. All of the conversation died out after a few exchanges. What was there to talk about that wouldn’t be too hard? And why bother discussing the simple stuff when it was time for both Caleb  _ and _ Beatrice to choose? 

The indignity wasn’t over even once they arrived at the Hub, either. Beatrice’s already irritable mood soured further as she watched her parent’s shoulders turn dutifully towards the stairwell entrances. “Can’t we at least check if the elevators are available?” Beatrice grumbled under her breath. Caleb’s elbow jabbed into her side in an unkind reminder that asking the question was practically an insult all on its own. 

She clamped her mouth shut the whole way up the dizzying stairwell even when her sides hurt from the effort. Getting to the auditorium with its clustered, slightly-too-close-together chairs still managed to be a relief. Beatrice huffed her way behind her parents as they made their way to the Abnegation section that mercifully wasn’t on the opposite end of the large room. 

Their little group was stopped briefly by a tall, blonde woman that Beatrice eventually realized was actually the Erudite faction leader, Jeanine. There was a bit of uncomfortableness as her father clearly tried to wriggle out of the conversation but Jeanine was having none of it. 

“These can’t be your children, Andrew,” Jeanine commented as though it wasn’t very obvious to the contrary. Beatrice didn’t bother keeping her eyes low and out of the way. Since when had her father been on speaking terms with the leader of any faction besides the other Abnegation council members? 

Beatrice’ father pressed his lips in a thin line that might have been generously called pleasant. He still answered her though. “Yes. My son Caleb and my daughter Beatrice. They’re both choosing today,” he explained curtly. 

Jeanine raised a thin eyebrow. “An auspicious day. You must be looking forward to seeing their choices. I know that I myself am always curious how children choosing on the same day make their decision. Whether they match or not,” she replied. “When there are transfers things get quite interesting, don’t you agree?”

There was a wrinkle that passed over Beatrice’s father’s face. Irritation which was quickly smoothed over into the easy confidence he wore when on Council business or out speaking with the neighbors. “You’ll have to look to some other family for your nature versus nurture observations, Jeanine. I know that’s what you’re talking about,” Beatrice’s father said firmly. Beatrice was finding it difficult to decide what she was feeling - irritation that they still hadn’t gotten to sit down or burning curiosity as to why her father was speaking so sharply to a faction leader. Especially an Erudite leader. 

Another part of her was curious as to why Jeanine would call transfers  _ interesting _ . Perhaps because it wasn’t her own flesh and blood. It wasn’t personal, knowing you were never going to have the same relationship again. 

“Transfer” was a kind term. The more accurate one was “traitor.” 

Beatrice’s eyes flicked to the five bowls positioned behind Jeanine. They were in the center of the stage, offset even from the small podium that this year’s faction leader would speak from to bring the ceremony to order. Each carved stone bowl stood on their own with their unique contents. They served to capture all the attention of the room. On what each young man and woman would pledge themselves to. 

Beatrice’s father placed a hand on Caleb’s shoulder, bringing her attention back to the conversation unfolding still. “We -” Beatrice knew well the royal  _ we _ that actually meant  _ Abnegation _ “- are looking forward to finally having our children make their initiation and join the faction. Isn’t that what every parent wants? To see their children build on what they’ve accomplished?”

Jeanine’s lips curled in a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I’ll have to take your word on that, Andrew,” she replied. With a curt nod, Jeanine briskly walked away. 

“Since when are you on speaking terms with Jeanine Matthews?” For once, Beatrice was not the one asking rude questions. Caleb had blurted it out. Their mother shushed him and directed them to finally sit down. Now they sat in an even more uncomfortable silence as the rest of the hall gradually filled up with the other families and faction members in attendance. Not everyone came to the Choosing Ceremony, but it seemed to Beatrice it might as well have been everyone. 

The gathering crowd took a while to assemble. Yet Beatrice felt it was only all too soon that Marcus Eaton took the stage to begin the ceremony. There was a long-winded speech about legacy and how their choices today would sow the seeds for their own futures. Beatrice had to hide a grimace when she caught her parents throwing expectant looks at both herself and Caleb. 

Technically Beatrice could fit in just fine in Abnegation. Her aptitude test had shown that she did indeed share her parent’s and Caleb’s aptitude for the faction of the selfless. There was just the little wrinkle where the proctor, Tori, had read out two additional factions. Dauntless and Erudite. 

Transferring  _ happened _ of course, but as Beatrice had sat in her bedroom last night she had wondered if she would be up to the challenge. It was one thing to know that she had the aptitude for something other than politely helping her fellow neighbors for the rest of her life. It was another to make the decision to leave. 

Sixteen years of being reminded that “ _ we” _ have to do the right thing, that “ _ we” _ make the decisions which are best for all not just ourselves. Sixteen years of being Abnegation. Beatrice could easily see herself walking away from all of that. But spending the next fifty, sixty years without seeing her family again? That wasn’t quite so simple to walk away from. 

Here in the Hub, actually facing down the decision, Beatrice wished that she had stayed up a bit longer last night to just choose. It had seemed then that there would be more time to think, more time to consider. Before breakfast. In the shower. On the walk here. 

Caleb put a hand on her knee. Beatrice started. She hadn’t realized that she had been bobbing it up and down while she spiraled into her anxiety. Caleb furrowed his brow.  _ You okay? _ He mouthed. 

No, she wasn’t. Beatrice swallowed and lifted one shoulder. This wasn’t the place to get into it. Marcus was tapping his papers back into line, and the assistants were laying out the small sterile blades on the table that had been rolled out next to the faction bowls. 

Her brother squeezed her knee once and pulled his hand back. Beatrice exhaled slowly. She forced herself to stay still, to stay calm. One way or another, this would be over shortly. 

The first few of Beatrice’s classmates to step up to the center dias had the worst luck, she decided. To be the first to Choose for each faction meant an enormous level of pressure. There was an extra burst of applause when the very first faction was chosen. Erudite. In the corner of Beatrice’s eye she caught her father’s downturned lips even as he clapped politely along with the rest of the room. It didn’t mean anything, being the first faction chosen, but Beatrice suddenly could picture the report to go out tomorrow on the event. There would be some jab, some self-congratulating pat on the back that of  _ course _ the first faction Chosen was Erudite. 

Yet just like that, the room quieted and the next name was called. The process continued and more blood was spilled. Beatrice took some solace in watching the first teenager bleed into the grey stones of Abnegation. At least she wouldn’t be  _ the _ first Abnegation today. Assuming that was what she would default to. The decision still lingered in the forefront of her thoughts. 

There was another first, though, that had yet to creep up. As the names crept closer and closer to Prior in the chaotic, reverse-alphabetical tradition, Beatrice edged ever forward on her chair. Who would be the first to transfer? Perhaps this nervous Dauntless-born girl would decide to join the laid back Amity? No, she steeled her shoulders and stepped to the coals just like her parents had before her. 

Beatrice let out a breath as the last teenager before herself and Caleb made his way down. She knew him well enough. They had been lab partners for a quarter. There was no way that he was leaving Erudite. 

“Guess there won’t be too many transfers after all,” Beatrice said as she leaned over to Caleb. He didn’t answer. They both watched the boy happily grin as he squeezed his hand over the glass in the Erudite bowl. 

“Good luck,” Beatrice whispered as Caleb wiped his palms on the fronts of his pants. He stood up just before Marcus Eaton finished reading his name from the list. Their parents wished him much the same. It felt like a chorus, though what they all truly meant was not “good luck” but “see you soon.” Beatrice felt her own decision solidifying in her mind. They had to stick together. They were a family, regardless of aptitude, regardless of how dull volunteering might be some days. 

Caleb took the steps at a quick pace. He accepted the knife from one of the assistants and made the cut on his palm in an almost rushed manner. The assistant who took the soiled blade from him had a frown on their face. Some quiet exchange passed as Caleb shook his head. Beatrice tried not to roll her eyes. Of all the things to mess up, you didn’t want to hurt yourself for real during the ceremony. 

She frowned, however, when Caleb stepped away from the assistants into the half-circle of bowls. He hadn’t stepped all the way to the side to reach the Abnegation bowl. He’d stopped partway through. There was a moment that seemed to stretch for much longer than a few seconds as he turned his face to look up to where the three of them were sitting. Beatrice’s skin grew cold as the fear crept in. 

“No,” she whispered to herself. Caleb swallowed and tore his eyes away to look instead at the bowls once more. “What are you doing?” He didn’t answer of course. He couldn’t hear his sister all the way down there. And it was obvious what he was doing, painfully so, as Beatrice watched him step over to the wrong bowl. 

Caleb lifted his hand over the glass and let his blood join the others before him. There was a long pause, much longer than for any other chooser. Caleb looked up at Marcus and surely there wasn’t enough air in the room for this many people because Beatrice suddenly couldn’t breathe. 

“Erudite,” Marcus finally announced, sealing the decision. Caleb pulled his hand back and in the crescendo of confused yet exhilarated applause, he was welcomed into his new faction. 

Beatrice looked at her parents. Her father’s face was twisted in obvious fury. He did not clap. Neither did Beatrice. Her mother had managed to belatedly join in the applause but her expression was just as confused as Beatrice felt. 

“Why did he do that?” Beatrice asked. Neither of her parents answered. Her question was buried in the clapping. 

When it tapered back down, Marcus had returned to his previous composure though there was a stiffness down his spine. He cleared his throat deliberately before calling out, “Next, Beatrice Prior.” 

It wasn’t fair. Beatrice felt herself stand up simply because she knew that was what she was  _ supposed _ to do. She stepped past her parents, murmuring apologies that she didn’t have to give but surely meant that she was sorry, too, for what Caleb had just done to them. Next she passed down the stairs. At the bottom she paused, and her head swiveled to find where Caleb had sat down. He was looking straight ahead, his expression carefully schooled. 

“Beatrice?” She flushed and turned back to the bowls in front of her. She had just been standing there, glaring at Caleb. She needed to keep moving. That was the expectation. 

Smoothing her dress with her hands, Beatrice approached the assistants with their curious faces and their shiny, sterile blades. One of them passed it to her with a murmured reminder to just press enough to get a few drops. Maybe they thought after Caleb it would be better to give some direction than to assume. 

Beatrice followed the instructions dutifully, handing over the blade to the right one. She kept her hand cupped to prevent the precious liquid from spilling. It had to be done right. She had to do it right, unlike Caleb. 

She couldn’t mess up.

She couldn’t ruin things, not like Caleb had.

How could he have done this? To their family? They were supposed to be on the same page. If she was staying, surely he could suck it up and remain as well. That’s what they were supposed to do as good, selfless people. Even when they didn’t want to, that was what was expected. People didn’t betray their factions, their families. It wasn’t right.

Beatrice stepped away from the little table of knives and approached the bowls. She didn’t stop moving, didn’t shy away from the path that she knew had been laid in front of her by her mother and her father before her. 

She didn’t  _ want _ to. Not really. But that didn’t stop her from standing there in front of those plain, desolate stones and tipping her hand to scatter her blood among them. 

Her quiet exhale was lost in the applause that followed Marcus’ announcement of her choice. Just like she would soon be, among the grey backdrop of her family’s faction. 


	2. Chapter 2

Beatrice supposed that she should have felt relieved when she moved to sit once again in the Abnegation section. Relief did not come and her nerves spiked once more as she was directed not to return to sit next to her mother and father but instead to join the others who had chosen to remain down at the base of the section. Beatrice opened her mouth to protest, but Marcus was calling the next name already. 

She pursed her lips and settled into the chair that she had been directed to. From here her view was much more limited. She could only catch the side of Caleb’s face and even that was through the crowd of Erudite and Candor that separated them now. The ceremony progressed on. Now that the first transfer had revealed themself, the tension in the room had eased off some. Beatrice found herself also glaring at Jeanine when she realized that she could see the Erudite woman more clearly than Caleb. 

It was a stupid thought, but Beatrice pondered if Caleb would have remained with them in Abnegation if Jeanine hadn’t butted in with her curious questions about whether she and Caleb would make the same choice. Another thought, darker and filled with implications that Beatrice would chew on through the rest of the ceremony also rose. 

Had Caleb decided long ago? He had been the one to express surprise that their father was on speaking terms with Jeanine. Was there more to that surprise? Had he been in contact with the Erudite leader himself?

No answers presented themself to Beatrice, and she only further aggravated herself with wondering. She barely managed a polite smile when Susan Black joined her in the row of Abnegation initiates. Robert was quick to join her which seemed to be a source of great relief. At least there would be only one mismatched sibling pair among the Abnegation today. Beatrice looked around the room once more. Among the newly chosen there were only three transfers. They stood out in their mismatched colors among the other initiates. One to Erudite, one to Amity, and one sitting a few seats over from Beatrice among the Abnegation initiates. 

Marcus called the crowd to order one final time. “Each year we commend the bravery that all of our new initiates have shown by their choices. While some may surprise us, we know that each of our children has made the right decision for themselves. And with that, they have chosen what will push our great city forward into a brighter future,” he said firmly. “Let’s have one final round of applause for those who have taken their first steps into their own, personal futures. They are dependents no more. We are proud of them.”

Beatrice tasted only bitterness in her mouth. She remained in her seat while the rest of the room stood to give one final round of applause. It was a send-off, but Beatrice could not enjoy it. She wasn’t going anywhere. Her brother had left her, left them, and she had just committed herself to a life of routine and duty and self-sacrifice. Everything that she had seen from her mother and father, everything that they had instilled in her since childhood. 

She did not want it. She did not want any of this. 

* * *

Like salt rubbed into a wound, Beatrice wasn’t even given the satisfaction of seeing her mother and father after the ceremony. Their group of initiates was summoned together by an Abnegation woman that Beatrice vaguely remembered being one of her Sunday School teachers at some point. She had explained that their journey to full faction membership was beginning then with no delay. They spent the next hour or so helping the event team to take down the folding chairs, the audio equipment, and even to roll the bowls to the freight elevator to be taken back downstairs for cleaning, sanitizing, and storage. 

It would feel like nearly any other inter-faction event if not for the obvious lack of Caleb next to her. They had been roped into assisting with more set up and take downs than Beatrice could fathom to count. Perhaps that was why it stung all the more. 

This was their Choosing Day. After everything that Marcus had rambled on and on about, ultimately Beatrice was still here after the fact rolling up microphone cables and stacking lord knew how many folding chairs into piles. Just another afternoon spent being quietly irritated that their faction was the one left to put things away after the other four departed. 

Eventually all the chairs were stacked and the auditorium lights clicked off. Their group was ushered out and clustered in a rough circle around the woman who was directing them. “Thank you for your time,” she said. The words were familiar and route. Everyone in their circle save for the single yellow-clad Amity girl parroted back the appropriate response. 

Bitter. That was still all that Beatrice could taste. Even the words that she had uttered so many times before were like ash in her mouth. She barely heard what they were being told about what the next few days would entail. It was nothing surprising: acts of service, quiet time for contemplation, basic group work to practice working with the committees and projects that directed Abnegation’s work. 

That was the problem. Beatrice  _ knew _ everything that they were going to go through in the next few weeks. Abnegation had the easiest initiation of any faction; that was an open secret. Of course Beatrice had nothing to worry about. She just couldn’t keep the irritation from rising from her chest. 

“We’ll be dining as a group tonight. For the next few weeks, actually, we will remain within this group. For meals, for our initiation work, and for rest. This is an opportunity to separate yourself from your past life and to decide who you will be when you join the faction fully,” the woman explained cheerfully. 

It would have been easier if Beatrice wasn’t alone. It would have been easier if she had at least gotten to spend her evening with her parents like normal. It would have been easier if she hadn’t needed to choose the faction that she was  _ expected _ to. 

Beatrice took a deep breath in and held it for a long moment. She had kept herself together throughout today. She would keep holding it together. 

“If you’ll follow me, we’ll head back to Abnegation for the evening.” Beatrice’s heart fell when she saw their leader directing them not towards the neat row of elevators and instead moving to the wide stairwell doorway. 

Getting her feet to carry her along with the rest of the group was like moving through molasses. Beatrice slipped to the back of the crowd. It was easy, then, to end up further behind everyone else as they wound their way back down the spiraling stairwell that the Prior family had ascended together only a few short hours ago. 

She watched as the rest of the group quietly chatted amongst themselves. Beatrice knew most of them. They’d been in school together for years now and several of them like Robert and Susan even lived on the same street as her family. Now she would grow up with them, pick a career path, and - if her father had anything to say about it - probably marry someone like Robert to push the cycle on. 

Beatrice stopped on the edge of the landing she had just cleared. The rest of the group marched on, apparently content. She looked down at her feet. Her toes peeked out over the edge of the landing over the next step she needed to take. Her life felt like this staircase, endless in its monotony. The rest of the group might be happy to continue on following it. Beatrice couldn’t stomach it any further. 

It wasn’t worth it if she was the only one suffering through this. In another world if Caleb had stayed, perhaps Beatrice would have been selfless and content. In this one, Beatrice turned and ascended to the exit door that she had just passed by. 

It opened readily when she pressed on the push bar. Beatrice held her breath, expecting some kind of alarm. Surely this wasn’t allowed? But it opened and she passed through without issue. The Hub was more than just an auditorium and an atrium, after all. 

The stairwell door snapped shut behind her, cutting off the quiet chatter completely. Beatrice stood in the hallway feeling something bubbling inside her chest. She cautiously stepped from the stairwell to the wider hall that housed the bank of elevators. The confidence startled her. She embraced it nonetheless. 

Her hand shook until she took a deep breath in. Then she pressed the call elevator button. One of the lights popped on instantly and the dial counted up as the car ascended to find her. 

Beatrice licked her lips. Where was she going? What was she doing now? 

Her test results made up the only compass she had to go by. Abnegation, that had been a mistake. Erudite,  _ hah! _ Beatrice would rather die than follow her traitorous brother there. Dauntless remained the only choice. 

It wasn’t a choice by default, though, not really. The elevator doors popped open after a light ding alerted her to the car’s arrival. Beatrice entered with smooth steps and pressed the button for the atrium. This confidence, this certainty. She had only felt it one other time recently - when she had taken the aptitude test. 

It was enough to reassure her that this was the right call. Letting the elevator doors close in front of her, Beatrice felt like she was truly making her own decision, now. Whatever happened, she wasn’t going to be stuck in Abnegation. Not anymore. 


	3. Chapter 3

“You’re pretty brave showing up on our doorstep after choosing another faction.” 

“Brave or stupid, I’m not sure which.”

Beatrice stood among a cluster of Dauntless members that had been assembled within the past ten or so minutes. She had been brought here after her long walk through the city streets to the only Dauntless building she knew - the huge truck depot that her mother had taken them to on occasion to help load and unload supplies to and from Amity. It had been very different in the dim twilight rather than the full sun of a volunteering day, but at least Beatrice had successfully remembered where it was. 

The Dauntless milling about by the open garage doors had been amused at first when a rogue Abnegation showed up asking to be let in. Someone had called someone else and eventually, after Beatrice made it clear that she wasn’t leaving until she was allowed in, she was brought up here. Where  _ here _ was appeared to be a conference room of sorts. Apparently it was universal regardless of faction that sometimes people just needed a room with a big table, some mismatched office chairs, and too many coffee mugs in order to sit down and talk. 

Beatrice had been deposited in one of the chairs and was now looking back and forth between the handful of Dauntless now grilling her. 

“It’s just not done,” a woman with purple streaks in her tied-back hair remarked. She had her arms folded on the table, her mind apparently made up. 

At the head of the table was a Black man who had at least done Beatrice the courtesy of introducing himself as Max. He held up a hand to signal the running commentary to stop. One last grumble was voiced and then Max spoke. “This is certainly unexpected,” he said simply. Beatrice’s head bobbed in acknowledgement. She understood that this wasn’t normal. 

“That being said, if there is a faction that would consider an unexpected Initiate, it would be ours,” Max continued. “I understand the rationale to a degree. It is still Choosing Day. Technically all the pomp and circumstance in the Hub is just that - set dressing around the actual decision that you Initiates are making.”

There was an almost visceral reaction among the Dauntless at the table. The purple-haired woman scoffed. Two of the others cried out in overlapping voices. Max slammed his fist on the table with a growl of “Quiet!” Beatrice’s eyes darted back and forth between the Dauntless, not daring to move beyond that. 

“She didn’t bleed into the coals. She wasn’t brave then and there to make her decision, Max. How can we accept her now?”

Beatrice’s face flushed and her arms tightened around her middle. She had asked herself that question many times in her long walk from the Hub to Dauntless. How  _ could _ they accept her? She chewed on her lip, refusing to voice her own doubts. If she doubted herself, then they surely would. 

Max glared at the man who had spoken. “It doesn’t matter if she bled into the coals, August. You know that tradition’s only ten, fifteen years old anyways. I was there when you Chose. All you used to have to do was announce your decision in the school gymnasium. Like I said, pomp and circumstance. I think that we can get over it,” Max retorted sharply. 

August settled back into his seat, his face red but his argument cut out from under him. 

Across from Beatrice was a blonde young man who she had a niggling feeling she remembered from the halls of school. He hadn’t spoken much throughout, choosing instead to listen and regard Beatrice with steely grey eyes. He raised an eyebrow at Max’s declaration. “She’s also a traitor. Twice over, if you consider that she’s Abnegation born and Abnegation chosen,” the blonde said. “Now she wants to switch factions, hours after the ceremony?”

Max leveled a glare at him. “I am still speaking English, right? Forget about the ceremony,” he growled in a clear order. He turned back to regard Beatrice. She unfolded her arms, gripping the wobbly office chair arms instead. To look weak now would be to lose this opportunity. 

“You would still be a transfer. A traitor to your home faction,” Max said. His voice had returned to the more measured tone from earlier. “What we have to ask ourselves and what the rest of my fellow Leaders are struggling with is the question of whether it’s worth our time - and yours - to allow you to join Initiation.

“There have been very few transfers to Dauntless. Most of them don’t make it through. It would be easier for you to go back home. Return before you’ve been missed and stick with what you’ve been raised to be.” 

He wasn’t wrong. Beatrice knew that. There was no hard edge of intimidation, of dishonesty. Max was just being honest and that was a trait that Beatrice could respect. 

There was an unspoken question now hanging in the air. Beatrice cleared her throat. “If I had wanted to choose the easy path, I would have stuck with my decision from the ceremony. I was afraid. And I don’t want to be afraid. Staying in Abnegation would be easy, but I would stay afraid. I want to be Dauntless. I have to be,” she said. Her heart hammered in her chest, and she thanked God that she had managed to speak without her voice trembling. 

She waited for someone to scoff, to brush her off and to tell her that she needed to run along back to her mom and dad. There was instead a thoughtful pause as the Dauntless in the room took in her words. 

Max nodded. A few of the others looked more or less neutral. The blonde across from Beatrice finally broke from looking at her to regard a young woman who had been standing in the back of the room, separate from the rest. Beatrice turned to look at her as well and noticed immediately that she was the only one in the room who didn’t have the geometric lines and bars running along her neck. 

“Lauren? What do you think? Worth your time?” he asked. 

The young woman, Lauren, shrugged one shoulder. “No less so than any other transfer,” she remarked. “But she’s going to have a tough time convincing them of that. Regardless of the ceremony being a load of bull, it’s going to still mean a lot to the others that she didn’t actually Choose Dauntless. You know how kids can be.” 

“I’m not a kid,” Beatrice blurted. It sounded foolish in this room of Dauntless soldiers as soon as she said it, but there was no taking it back. 

August chuckled, though not unkindly. “Sure you are. But that’s okay. That’s what Initiation is about. Getting past that.” 

The purple-haired woman rolled her eyes. “Can we put this to a vote already? I got pulled out from dinner,” she sneered. She had remained unconvinced by Max’s overtures and Beatrice’s declaration. Beatrice felt her chest tighten as Max nodded. This was it. 

“I don’t want her,” the woman said simply. Then she jerked her chin at the next Leader next to her. 

They shrugged. “I can’t see why it would hurt to let her try. If she fails, she fails. No harm done on our end.” It wasn’t exactly resounding confidence, but Beatrice would take it over an outright no. 

August gave a begrudging yes, apparently having been convinced by Max. Two more Leaders gave meandering answers that boiled down to not wanting to take a chance of pissing off the Council for taking in someone who hadn’t Chosen Dauntless. 

Max smacked the closest one on the shoulder. “Stop worrying about what the Council will think. What does it matter that we take in one extra Initiate? She came to us. She deserves the opportunity to try. How is that any different than any typical transfer? I vote she can stay.”

All eyes went to the last Leader to vote, the blonde across from Beatrice. He remained quiet for a moment, his grey eyes once again studying her carefully. 

“Eric?” Max pressed gently as the young man’s silence continued. 

“We don’t like people who don’t keep their word, and your track record is now notably worse that you’re now a traitor.” He once again called her a traitor. He was right, of course, especially after she had given her mother and father hope that she would remain. 

“But,” Eric said slowly, “I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t intrigued by someone brave enough to come here even after choosing something else. Especially something as safe as Abnegation.”

He paused once again. The room was so quiet, Beatrice was certain that they could all hear her heart pounding in her chest. “So… is that a yes?” she dared to ask. 

His head tipped as he made some final assessment of her. Finally, firmly, he nodded. “I vote yes as well. You should stay. For now.”

Beatrice felt the weight on her shoulders immediately lift. She could breathe again, could feel again. Her hands unclenched from the arms of the office chair, and she chanced a smile. “Thank you,” she exhaled. 

August laughed and said, “Don’t thank us yet. Spend a few days with Lauren and we’ll see if you’re still so grateful.”

There was a scuffle of noise and motion as the Leaders began to depart, already focused on their next goal now that this was resolved. Beatrice swept to her feet as well, though she remained at her position at the table. 

“There’s one last thing, though,” Eric called over the chatter starting up. There was a brief pause as the room’s attention moved back to him. He pointed a finger at Beatrice. “Every new Initiate gets the chance to set their name. If they want.” 

Beatrice blinked. It was something she was aware of, certainly. The Amity girl who had joined today had re-introduced herself as Astoria rather than her given name. Hardly any of the past Abnegation-borns would choose to do such a thing. Beatrice hadn’t considered it when she had been with the others, either.

But that had been when she was remaining Abnegation, remaining the girl that followed her parents’ expectations dutifully to the point of dullness. The whole point of being here now was to become something new. To become someone new. 

“It’s a fresh start. If you want it,” Eric said more quietly. “No one’s going to force you, of course. I just thought it might help.”

She again allowed herself to smile. That was twice now that he had coaxed one from her. She nodded slowly. “I… yeah, I want that,” she admitted. 

“So?” he asked after a beat. “How do you want to introduce yourself to your newly chosen faction?”

“Tris. I’m Tris,” she answered. Eric nodded in approval. 

“Much better - no offense. Welcome to Dauntless, Tris.” 


	4. Chapter 4

The rest of the Leaders departed the room save for Max and Eric. Tris stood uncomfortably, awaiting directions for what exactly she was supposed to do now. The pair exchanged a few more quiet words before Max turned to Tris. 

“Eric is overseeing Initiation this year, more or less. Though you’ll be getting your actual training from Lauren here. They’ll get you set up and settled in,” Max said. He clapped a hand on Tris’ shoulder, startling her. He took in her wide eyes and pulled his hand back. 

“Abnegation stiffness,” he said with a chuckle. “I wish you luck with that. I’d say try to get over it quick, but I suspect that won’t help.”

With that, Max left. Tris looked now to Eric and Lauren - who had also remained in the room - for direction. Lauren pushed off from the wall and gestured with two fingers for Tris to approach. “C’mere, transfer,” she said. It wasn’t an unpleasant tone, just direct. 

Tris wound around the table. She folded her hands in front of her, her nerves bubbling once again in her stomach. “Hi,” she said quietly. 

Lauren extended a hand. “To formally introduce myself, I’m Lauren,” she said. Tris looked at her hand. Slowly she unfolded her hands and reached out to mirror the young woman. Lauren took her hand and shook it. 

“Sorry, like Max said, you’re gonna have to get used to things being different in Dauntless. Down to how we say hello,” she explained. Again, not unkind. Just matter of fact. Tris let her hand drop back down to her side. 

Lauren looked over her shoulder. Eric had followed behind quietly, his arms crossed over his chest. “What do you want me to do with her as far as living quarters? I think there’s a bunk available, but it’s not going to be fun for her,” she asked. 

Eric lifted one shoulder. “The point isn’t to be fun. Tris wants to be Dauntless. She gets the whole experience. We don’t coddle traitors,” he said. When Lauren leveled a frown at him he cleared his throat and corrected himself. “ _ Transfers _ .”

A wry smile twisted Lauren’s lips. “Agreed,” she said. She looked once more at Tris. “Ready to meet the others, then? Any questions so far?”

“Only about a thousand,” Tris admitted. Lauren laughed and clapped a hand on Tris’ shoulder to nudge her to the door. 

“Let’s see how many I can answer by the time we get downstairs.”

* * *

Tris’ head was spinning by the time that Lauren and Eric left the dorm. A lot of the details about Initiation needed some digesting to comprehend - just exactly what would  _ conquering her fears made incarnate _ mean? - and even the basics were overwhelming as compared to the taste of Abnegation Initiation she had received. 

Dauntless lived together in dormitories and not even in ones separated by gender. Their group of Initiates at least weren’t with any full-fledged Dauntless members, but that was where the relief ended. The dorms were still incredibly  _ open _ in ways that Tris did not want to process. She was pointed to the last available bunk above a surly looking girl who took one look at Tris and scoffed. 

The introductions that Lauren oversaw were brief. There was another round of handshakes where several of the Dauntless-borns tried their hardest to crush her hand in a deliberate fashion. She flinched at the first one and then fought back for the others. Whether she won or not remained to be seen. The lights in the room clicked to a dimmer setting automatically and that was the cue for the trainers to depart. 

“Training gym five tomorrow morning. Six thirty. Don’t be late,” Lauren said as her final parting words. Tris looked at the clock on the wall and winced. The soft blue numbers had just ticked to eleven PM. If this had been a school night, she would have been asleep ages ago and that was for an eight AM class. Six thirty would be miserable. 

And then the trainer was gone, leaving Tris among the Dauntless-borns. She expected the same idle curiosity or perhaps open hostility as she had seen from the Leaders upstairs. Instead, after some brief questions confirming she really was an Abnegation and she really had chosen to come  _ here  _ of all factions, Tris was more or less ignored in favor of the group prepping for sleep. 

The dorm had some open space near the dressers and trunks that had already been divided among the other Initiates. Tris watched quietly from her spot next to her bed until she identified a trunk that seemed to be untouched. Swallowing her nerves as best that she could, Tris moved over to it and tugged the lid open. 

Her heart fell when she realized that it was empty. Looking over her shoulder at the others she could see the others had identical looking stacks of basic clothes. T-shirts, pants, and under things presumably in each initiate’s size. Something that she had missed by not having arrived at the same time as the others. 

She kicked off her sneakers and tucked them inside of her empty trunk. Her mouth refused to open and she didn’t end up asking where the others had gotten their clothes. Instead, Tris closed the trunk and wound her way back to the bunk beds. 

“Hey, Stiff.” Tris bit her lip and debated whether she wanted to respond. She set her shoulders, summoned what would hopefully resemble a tough expression, and turned towards the sound. 

“Sorry,” they immediately apologized. It was the surly looking girl who had rolled her eyes when getting introduced. “That was rude. It’s Tris, right?”

Tris nodded slowly. She wasn’t stupid. Spending years in the same school as the other factions she knew that people would readily pretend to apologize for mocking “Stiffs” - Abnegations - before going right back to it. “Yeah. And you’re Lynn?” Tris responded in kind. 

The girl nodded. She had a bundle of clothes in one hand and had already changed into an oversized t-shirt and shorts. “You’re gonna stand out if you stay in that dress,” Lynn said simply. “Here. Something to wear until you get to requisitions.”

She tossed the bundle to Tris who fumbled and caught it just before it hit the ground. It was another t-shirt and some jogging pants. Comfortable enough to sleep in and probably good enough to get through tomorrow’s first hurdles of Initiation. 

Tris blinked. “Thanks,” she said honestly. 

Lynn shrugged. “No problem. Good luck without a toothbrush though. That sucks,” she replied cheerfully. She headed towards the doorway that many of the others had filtered in and out of - the bathroom, presumably. 

Actually changing into the clothes was an uncomfortable moment, but Tris dragged herself through it. The pants had been easy to slip on under the dress first. She managed to face the wall and shrug off her grey, formless dress quickly enough before getting the t-shirt on. Then it was just a short walk back to the truck to fold away the dress. Her face was bright red regardless. No one seemed to care. 

Before she could worry too much more about anything else, Tris had hauled herself onto her bunk and after barely a minute of fiddling with the sheet over her she had fallen asleep. 

* * *

Tris’ first day of Initiation was off to a  _ great _ start. She had been shaken awake by Lynn rolling - literally  _ rolling _ \- off of the bed to get up. When Tris had rubbed the sleep from her eyes she had found that the lights had already kicked back to full brightness. Another minute of blearily remembering that this was certainly not a weird dream left Tris to finally realize that the clock on the wall was reading ten past six. 

That left her about twenty minutes to get ready with her non-existent toiletries, get some food, and then find her way to wherever the gymnasium was supposed to be. The other initiates were chatting excitedly or getting ready next to their things. Once again, no one was paying any kind of attention to the transfer. 

Tris slid off of her bunk and dipped into the bathroom. She kept one eye out for Lynn since the girl had shown her at least a little bit of kindness yesterday. Apparently she had disappeared as soon as she had gotten up. She didn’t need much to get ready; her head was shaved and she wasn’t lingering by the mirrors like some of the others doing makeup. 

Leaving the bathroom, Tris got her sneakers and found herself lingering at the doorway to the dorm. She peeked into the hall, her teeth worrying at her lip. When she had been brought here by Lauren last night she certainly hadn’t remembered their exact path, never mind the fact that going back to the conference room or even the motor pool would be precisely useless right now. 

“Hey, Stiff, you’re blocking the door,” someone said. They slapped a hand on her back in a way that might have been friendly. Tris didn’t have a good judge of what was friendly or not here. She jumped and pressed herself flat against the doorframe to try and get out of the way. 

“Sorry,” Tris insisted. “I’m just looking for-”

The boy who had spoken rolled his eyes. Tris thought his name might have been Callum. Something like that. “You don’t know what you’re looking for. Just move out of the way and try to keep up.”

Tris’ mouth pressed in a frown but she kept herself from retorting. Callum and two others passed by her, turning confidently to the left. There was a fifty-fifty shot that they were also hungry like she was or that they were going to the gymnasium directly. Either way, Tris decided to follow them. They didn’t notice or didn’t care that she was shadowing behind them, their conversation turning instead to excited discussions about what phase one would be like. 

“They gotta get to firearms first, right?” one of the girls said excitedly. 

Callum swatted her arm, a grin on his face. “Keep dreaming, Layla. If you wanted to shoot a gun you should have gone to the range before now. It’s not like your dad doesn’t have enough of them. Doesn’t he collect rifles?” he said with a laugh. 

She scoffed and swatted him right back. “Not all of us have cousins who like to break the no-guns-for-dependents rules,” she retorted. Callum shrugged and the other initiate joined in, too. 

“Zeke may or may not have bent that rule a little with me,” he admitted, “but it’ll definitely be different to actually, you know, be taught how to use ‘em instead of just getting the ‘point and squeeze’ instructions.” 

Tris edged a little closer, her curiosity about what may be coming up today outweighing the feeling of being an outsider. “We’re going to get to use guns?” she blurted out. 

Three sets of eyes looked back at her. “Yeah, ‘course we are,” Layla replied like it was obvious. And maybe it was. “If we don’t train with them, we’re gonna be pretty shit Dauntless.” Tris blinked at how casually she swore on top of how matter of fact her response was overall. 

“Oh.” There wasn’t much else to say to that. 

They returned to their conversation, now diving into deeper details about what kind of shooting techniques they might get exposed to. Tris kept her mouth shut while she listened. The finer points went over her head, but a small part of her bubbled with excitement the more that they said. This was exactly what she was missing yesterday at the Hub. Questions and new, extreme parts of a faction to learn. 

They ended up at a large cafeteria with lines of tables. Across one whole wall was a row of serving tables that opened into a massive kitchen. It was perhaps twice the size of the kitchen that Tris had been to in order to pick up food boxes to distribute with her mother. Her mouth watered when she spotted the section that had breakfast prepped and steaming. 

“Time check?” The boy whose name Tris didn’t know pointed to a clock over the door they had just passed through. It was just barely before six thirty, their deadline to be in the training gym. 

“Shit,” Callum sighed. “Was really looking forward to eggs today.” 

Tris spotted a separate section of food, all cold as opposed to the eggs and sausage that peeked out from atop the silver serving trays. What caught her attention most was the fruit bowl and some pastry. They screamed portable to her. The other three had scattered, though Tris kept an eye on Callum’s bright red hair. She still didn’t know how to get to the gym from here. 

The cold station had plates and bowls stacked in neat order which Tris ignored. She glanced through the fruit until she decided on an apple and a small packet of mixed nuts. That was all that she had time to consider. The three initiates she had followed into the cafeteria had suddenly regrouped at the door, and she had to rush through the tables to catch back up with them. 

It only took a few twists and turns through Dauntless’ halls to end up in a hallway with widely spaced rolling doors. Each was spray painted with a letter and number. All of them were closed except for one labelled “T-5”. 

She had only finished half of her apple but she pitched the rest into the trash can that was by the front when they walked in. The others had taken similar small bites and had finished along the way. Tris pocketed her remaining nuts and jogged with the others to join the semi-circle of initiates that were surrounding the trainer. 

“Nice of you four to join us,” Lauren called from deeper inside the gym. Her voice echoed slightly in the open room. “Close enough to on time, but let’s do a little better next time, eh?” Once everyone was gathered she clapped her hands together firmly. 

“Alright, Initiates,” she said loudly. “Are you ready to begin?”


	5. Chapter 5

It turned out that training was not to begin with firearms like Callum had hoped. Tris had come in with almost zero expectations of what exactly Dauntless initiation would be like, but she certainly did not think that the first thing that Lauren would cover would be hand to hand combat. 

There was some warm up first, of course. Lauren talked briefly through basic concepts for phase one’s strength training and for the different paths that they could take to determine their own strengths and weaknesses. It just didn’t mean as much to Tris as it may have meant to the others to be told about agility, endurance, and cardio exercises that they should focus on. She had heard about burpees and ropes courses in her physical education classes in school. It’s just that most Abnegation students got passes to exempt them from the majority of those exercises in understanding that they got plenty of exercise in the community clean-ups, volunteering hours, and even the time that they spent walking too and from school. 

None of that would obviously have prepared Tris to be given a pair of hand wraps and a punching bag on her first day in Dauntless. There was a demonstration for each routine that Lauren told them to run through, but by the time that Tris had figured out the right stance and position they were getting the whistle to stop and pay attention to the next demo. When Lauren did pass by, she only had time for small corrections like adjusting how the wraps had gone between Tris’ fingers or how she needed to keep her torso firmly locked when she was preparing to strike. 

A final, long blast of the whistle notified their ragged group that it was time for lunch. Tris loved that whistle almost as much as she hated it. Stopping meant that she could take a break, but it also meant that she more than likely hadn’t actually figured out the drill quite yet. 

Still, Tris unwound her hand wraps and trotted with the other initiates back to the cafeteria. Her stomach was growling desperately even after she had eaten the rest of her nuts during one of Lauren’s demonstrations. It was now that Tris realized that she never even got dinner last night. Her trek from the Hub to Dauntless had been right at meal time, and Lauren and Eric had then immediately dropped her off in the dorm. 

The food was good. Tris hadn’t ever had sandwiches like this before. There were multitudes of deli meats to pick from, and there were even sandwiches loaded with fresh vegetables or pressed flat with ooey, gooey melted cheese seeping out the sides. She had selected a roll loaded with probably four or five slices of turkey, though she suspected she would have been happy with any of the options available. Everyone’s attention was on the food - the one great equalizer of any faction. 

Returning to the gymnasium after lunch was a feeling unlike one Tris had felt before. She wasn’t dreading it because earnestly she did want to improve. But she also knew that she wasn’t making nearly as much progress as the Dauntless-born initiates around her. She resolved to herself to block them out and focus only on her own work. 

That was easier said than done. Lauren gave them a handful more drills to run on their own and then broke them into partners for the rest of the afternoon. “To keep things random, everyone find your bunkmate. That’s your buddy for the rest of the day,” Lauren called out across the room. 

Tris looked over at Lynn and gave a small wave. A frown flashed across Lynn’s face and she said something to Uriah - the boy from this morning whom Tris got reintroduced to at lunch. Tris’ smile fell and she tried to put it from her mind. It didn’t mean anything if Lynn didn’t want to work with her. Everyone had a partner and everyone would have to deal with that. Lynn gestured for Tris to walk over to where she had set up and that was that. 

Max’s warning yesterday about needing to get over physical contact sooner rather than later was practically unnecessary. Lauren’s drills she assigned now were more of the same that they had been running on the punching bags, but this time they had to be directed on their partners. 

“If you know blocks, resist the instinct to use ‘em,” Lauren called out. “The goal is to let your partner get comfortable with the drill. They won’t hit hard, promise.” Tris looked at Lynn for guidance. 

“Blocks?” she whispered.

Lynn snorted. “Yeah. You know. To keep from getting your teeth knocked out?” That was all that Tris had to go on before Lauren’s whistle sounded again and they were set loose to try out the drill on one another. 

Lynn settled into a stance and made a ‘come on’ gesture with her fingers. Tris wiped the sweat off of her nose. She moved into the stance that Lauren showed them just now, pulling her fists up and tucking her elbows close to her body. She waited another beat, adjusting to the idea of actually throwing her punches at another human being. 

“Ready?” she asked Lynn. The other girl nodded tightly. Tris bounded forward and threw the first punch. Her knuckles hit Lynn’s forearm lightly, and Tris flinched quickly back. She was supposed to follow up with an elbow strike upward! She remembered after a beat and awkwardly threw in the next motion. Her feet had shifted though. The resulting motion wasn’t smooth. Her elbow barely brushed past Lynn’s raised forearms. 

Tris shuffled back to where she started, a flush creeping up her face. “S-sorry,” she mumbled. 

Lynn’s arms dropped briefly. “For what? You barely hit me,” Lynn replied. “Are you gonna apologize over nothing, or are you gonna hit me like you mean it?”

Embarrassment burned the tips of Tris’ ears and her cheeks. She bounced on her heels and mumbled denials under her breath. Taking in a deep breath, she threw herself forward again. This time her first hit felt more solid. She didn’t flinch away from it. The follow up was still awkward. Her feet didn’t want to cooperate, but overall it was better.

Lynn pushed back with both arms before launching at Tris with her own pair of blows. They connected hard on Tris’ forearms that she brought up in front of face out of instinct.  _ Smack, smack _ ! Then she had stepped back, right where she had started from. 

Tris blinked behind her hands. “What?” she blurted out in confusion. Lynn huffed in reply. 

“C’mon, transfer,” she said hotly. “Back and forth. That’s the point of it. Again.” 

“Oh,” Tris replied. She shook her head. She had to stay focused. The issue was, the more that she worried about being unfocused and about messing up, the less focused she actually was. The next volley between her and Lynn was just as awkward as the first. As Lynn stepped back to her starting position, Tris moved and swung too early. She missed her completely. 

One single eyebrow twitched up on Lynn’s face. “You wanna try that again?” she said flatly. 

Tris ground her teeth together and nodded. This was going to be a long afternoon. 

* * *

Mercifully the day could not last forever. Eventually Lauren’s whistle sounded for the last time and the group was sent out of the gym for the final time for the day. “Prior, hold up,” Lauren called out. Tris winced. This was exactly what she had feared. 

Lynn clapped her on the arm, perhaps out of pity or just in consolation because Tris wasn’t going to get to head down to get food with the rest of them yet. Tris gave a vague thumbs up at the girl, hoping that would be an acceptable response. Then she turned to their instructor. Lauren was gathering the used hand wraps into a bin marked  _ Laundry _ which reminded Tris that she still needed to ask about where to get her new clothes. Assuming that she was still free to stay. The frown on Lauren’s face had Tris’ nerves back in overdrive.

“Yeah, Lauren?” Tris said cautiously. 

The trainer continued to look at the gear she was untangling in the bucket. “Today was rough, initiate,” Lauren finally admitted. 

Tris felt her heart fall. It was one thing to suspect. It was another to hear it right from the mouth of her trainer. “I-I know,” Tris admitted. “I didn’t get as many hits on Lynn as I probably should have, and I was behind on the bag drills. But I think I was starting to catch on in the last few. The footwork is tripping me up a lot.” Rambling on let her admit to everything that was bothering her while also preventing Lauren from outright saying anything about her performance. 

Lauren put up a hand, cutting off the next thing that Tris was going to say. She finally looked up from the bucket. “You’re putting in a lot of effort. That I can see on your face, in everything that you’re doing,” Lauren said. 

Tris nodded tightly. She could see in Lauren’s body language that there was an enormous  _ but _ coming along soon. 

“That being said,” Lauren sighed, “you’re obviously not at the same level as the rest of them. Which makes sense. You’re a transfer. You’re from Abnegation. It’s not exactly the ideal combination.” 

“I know that I’m not amazing,” Tris insisted, “but I am trying. Really hard. And that’s what I’m going to keep doing.” 

Lauren sighed again, brushing her hair back behind her ear. “I know you’re trying now. I’m just worried if things stay this hard that you might not keep it up. We really don’t want to have a quitter here.”

Tris started. She wasn’t going to just  _ quit _ . Not after everything that she had given up to be here. “I’m not going to give up,” she replied quickly. 

“You say that now, but after a week of this? Two? When you’re this far behind everyone else? Tris, I just want to make sure you realize the severity of this all. How much pressure there really is now that you’ve accepted this faction to try and join.”

It wasn’t fair. Lauren had said herself that she saw the level of effort that Tris was willing to put into training even on day one. She licked her lips and tried again from a different direction. “I’m behind now, but I can put in extra hours, too. After dinner. Early morning.” Lauren had informed them that most mornings weren’t going to be quite so early. This had been to make up for the time they were going to lose later in the month due to other planned exercises. 

Lauren was still frowning. “I can’t help you with extra training,” she said slowly. “If you want to put in the time, that’s… that’s definitely what you would need. But I need you to understand that I am not allowed to help outside of hours.”

Tris carefully considered her words. “You’re not saying that  _ I _ can’t do extra training though, right? I could work on my own and… and catch up with everyone else and that wouldn’t be against any rules?” 

The facade on Lauren’s face cracked. “That was what I was hoping you would say. No, it isn’t against the rules at all. None that are explicitly stated,” Lauren admitted. “I just can’t  _ as your instructor _ help you any more than I would help others. That would be favoritism.”

“And we abhor favoritism when it comes to the new kids,” a new voice joined the conversation. Tris turned and blinked in surprise as she realized joining them in the gymnasium was Eric. Lauren lifted a hand to wave at him. 

“That’s my cue to leave,” Lauren said suddenly. Tris opened her mouth to ask why. Lauren shook her head and gestured to the hallway. “You make sure that you still make it down for dinner. The caf closes at eight.” 

With that, the trainer slipped out of the gym with the bin under one arm. Eric waved her away as he passed by. He stopped in front of Tris, a sly grin that Tris didn’t quite know what to make of on his face. 

“What’s going on, exactly?” Tris pressed. If she was going to remain this off-beat then she might as well demand  _ some _ answers. 

“Just what you were claiming you’re going to do - you’re gonna fight for your place here,” Eric said simply. He grabbed a pair of hand wraps from the clean pile on the table and tossed them at Tris. 

Her instincts let her catch them even as her brain was trying put together what Lauren had been saying between the lines and how that seemed to be tied to Eric showing up now. “You’re here to help me?” Tris asked with a skeptical note to her voice. 

Eric tipped his head to one side and the other. He was wrapping his own wrist and palm with quick, practiced motions. “You might not call it help after today. Definitely not once we’ve gone ten rounds on the mat,” he replied wryly. 

He cocked his head to the open space where Tris had spent her afternoon. “C’mon, traitor. Let’s see what you’re giving me to work with.”


	6. Chapter 6

The tinny sound of beeping wove its way through Tris’ unconscious dreams, nudging her out of the surreal mixture of the grey halls of Abnegation and the blue-lit tunnels of Dauntless. More importantly, the thunk of Lynn kicking the end of the bed physically shook Tris awake. 

“Turn off the damn alarm, Stiff,” Lynn growled, “before I rip that watch off your wrist.”

Tris started and pushed haphazardly at the buttons on the unfamiliar band until finally, blissfully, the beeping stopped. “Sorry, sorry,” Tris blurted out. There was a chorus of groans as the other Initiates voiced their displeasure before settling back into sleep. Tris didn’t get that same bliss. She let her arm flop back over her eyes and counted to five. That was the only pause she could afford to give herself. She didn’t want to be late.

Sliding off of the bed, Tris blinked her way through getting dressed and attempting to brush her teeth with her new toothbrush and toothpaste. She was the only Initiate who had the misfortune of waking up two hours before training. Eric’s orders. 

Her hands and arms and legs all ached from yesterday, and here she was about to do it all over again. “Six AM sharp, Traitor,” Eric had grunted before vanishing through the gymnasium door. “Don’t waste your time or more importantly mine.”

Because Tris was on remedial training duty now. As her watch flashed FIVE FIFTY-FIVE at her, Tris picked up her pace and started to jog towards the training gym. This had been her choice, after all. As tired as she felt now Tris could only imagine how much worse she would feel if a) she did end up late or b) couldn’t keep up with the other Initiates and failed. No, she was determined to catch back up with the others and keep her place. 

Even if that meant a whole morning alone with Eric. Yesterday he had put her through her paces, more or less following through Lauren’s routine with a much more critical eye. Where Lauren had a number of initiates to watch for issues, Eric had eyes only for Tris’ mistakes. And boy were there plenty to pick from. 

Tris chewed on her lip when she spotted the gym’s door was already slid open. One row of lights was on, not all, but it was enough to illuminate the center strip of flooring and her own personal trainer. 

“Good morning,” Tris greeted. Politeness had been all but ground into every Abnegation kid’s reflexes. 

“Is it?” Eric grunted back. He was sipping what smelled to be coffee from a chipped mug that Tris couldn’t read beyond “Don’t touch me before--.” There was something scratched over the text with marker that didn’t help. Clearly he wasn’t a morning person. Tris jabbed her thumb over her shoulder at the door. 

“Do we close that?” she asked quietly. It seemed better to ignore Eric’s retort, somehow. 

He shook his head and placed the mug down on the folding table that was still set up from yesterday. Today it had a fresh bin of handwraps and Tris tried to school the sense of disappointment that came from seeing it. She wasn’t looking forward to more critique on her lack-luster right hook. “Did Lauren start you guys off with warm ups yesterday?” he asked. 

Tris started to shake her head and then stopped. Her cheeks warmed as she tried to remember. The details were all blurring together. There hadn’t been anything specifically  _ called  _ a warm up, but they had started with some high knee things and did it count if they had stretched their arms and legs a bit before Lauren showed them the first set? Eric lifted a hand when Tris started to hedge. “Uhhh,” she said. 

“I’ll take that as a maybe. First things first, you don’t want to break yourself. Remember from gym class? Or did you skip most of those? Abnies aren’t usually the physically active sorts,” Eric remarked. 

It didn’t help the burning flush on Tris’ face. She cleared her throat and crossed her arms over her chest. It was preferable to picking at her nail beds with her fingernails even if it felt like she was trying to hide. “Hey,” she sputtered. Eric shook a head and cut her off. 

“Just try to keep up, then,” he said roughly. 

* * *

She just barely made it into the cafeteria every night before the kitchen staff had turned off the warmers for the food. Eric would re-drill and re-work the same routines that Lauren had shown the group for the better part of two hours. Then he'd run her his own routines, techniques, and methods before _finally_ he would let Tris off with a “passable” judgement. 

That was the start of the new routine. Getting up each morning at the crack of dawn, building endurance, rejoining the others at breakfast, spending all day in training with Lauren, and finishing up whatever remained of the evening before dinner wrapped doing a second round of training. 

Tris expected to feel exhausted or overwhelmed. But there was something… enticing to the fact that she was seeing progress. The first few days  _ were _ in fact exhausting until she settled. And then at the end of the fourth day of training, Tris was paired up for the usual afternoon partner work. She lunged at Callum and successfully made it past his block - they were allowed, actually  _ expected _ to be blocking one another now. Callum had stumbled back, just as surprised as Tris was. It was something small, but it was the first real signal that showed she was catching up with everyone. 

From there, Tris didn’t want to hold back. That didn’t mean it was easy to get up early or that every day was a success story. But she could feel herself getting stronger and that was enough. 

The one thing that she didn’t quite understand was her trainer. Lauren, she kept her word. She gave everyone the same attention each day and turned down anyone who tried to get her to help outside of that. Eric, though. After spending hours upon hours with him, Tris still didn’t have a read on him. 

“You need a break before starting back up, Tris?” Eric had been waiting on the side of the training room for Lauren to wrap for the day. Tris waved as Uriah and Marlene passed by. 

“I’m okay,” Tris said. She was sweaty from the last round of hand to hand, but that was pretty much par for the course. 

Her assertion came readily. She felt herself smile when Eric approached, especially when the corners of his lip twisted as well. “What’s got you in a good mood?” he asked with a cock of his eyebrow. 

They both moved to the fighting mats that lined the back wall of the gymnasium. This week they had started sparring actively with one another, no longer bound to just practicing drills with each other. Tris’ smile faltered slightly as they approached. “It’s just… I think that’s the first time that you didn’t start off calling me a traitor,” she replied honestly. 

He frowned before quickly wiping the expression away. “Huh,” he said with forced lightness. “I suppose you’re right.” 

Tris leaned on the balls of her feet to peer just that bit better at his face. “I’m growing on you, aren’t I?” she teased. 

Eric swatted at her with the back of his hand. She ducked back with a laugh and moved to get onto the sparring mat instead. “I’ll take that as a maybe,” Tris called out. 

“I shouldn’t have asked if you needed a break,” Eric growled as he joined her on the mat. “Clearly you’ve got too much energy already if you’re this chipper.”

They circled one another before settling into defensive stances. Eric kept his loose, ready to react. Tris pulled her arms tight and close to her body to be able to defend herself quickly. He waited for her to strike first. “I just feel… good,” Tris admitted. She bounded forward with a trio of blows aimed at his center mass. 

He chose to backpedal away, waiting for her to overreach and follow up with a swat to the back of her arm. Eric moved in then, grabbing her wrist to twist her into a hold. “Lauren taking it easy on your guys?” Eric grunted. 

Tris shook her head. She waited a beat for Eric to reach for her other wrist, and then she dug her elbows sharply into his gut. He let go with a wheeze, stepping aside before she could sweep a leg under his. 

A few weeks ago, Tris would have found this casual conversation while fighting hand-to-hand ridiculous. She would have had to block out every word that came out of his mouth in order to focus on where he was going to be next. But it was getting easier every day the more that they drilled together. “I’m actually doing it, Eric,” Tris said firmly. “Like I knew that I was kind of treading water before. Just holding on, keeping from falling behind. But now?”

She rolled back to her feet and circled Eric as he switched from defense to offense. His next strike would be direct and  _ fast _ . “Now I think… I actually have a chance to beat some of them,” Tris continued. 

Eric scoffed. For a moment Tris’ heart fell and that was when he leapt forward to throw his elbow at the side of her head. She ducked and the blow just cuffed the top instead. “I hope you’ve got more than a  _ chance  _ after three weeks of this,” he remarked sharply. “Otherwise I’m not doing my job right. I won’t have any trainee of mine getting their ass kicked on the mats.”

Tris popped back to standing and swung out to return the favor. Her hand slapped the side of his head in an ineffective but distracting blow. He lunged in that direction, and Tris smacked the other side of his head with her other hand. “I just thought you would be… you know. A little proud. At least happy, if you’re capable of it yet,” Tris replied. 

She wasn’t just getting good at fighting and sparring with her fists. Her tongue was catching up to the Dauntless turns of phrases and the rapid-fire way they could switch between casual conversation and sharp retorts with the same ease they had on the mat. Eric swore when she landed another punch to his gut. 

Letting out a grunt, he charged at her. His arms went around her torso, pinning her elbows and giving him the leverage he needed to lift her up and drop them both onto the mat. Tris gasped as the air was driven from her lungs in one gust. She tried to sit up, her chest heaving as she coughed. Eric sat back on his haunches, still partially over her on the mat. 

“Don’t get cocky, transfer,” he grunted. Tris wheezed for another handful of breaths until she finally managed to get back in control. She looked up at him through watery eyes. 

“Noted,” Tris replied. She needed another minute to be able to speak properly. All the while Eric remained crouched over her, those same watchful eyes roving across her face. She tipped her head. 

“What?” she asked simply. 

He looked away. “I am,” he said. 

Tris swiped at her eyes to clear the rest of the tears from her vision. “You’re what?” 

Eric cleared his throat and pushed himself to his feet. “I am proud of you. Trust me, I’m as surprised as you are,” he insisted. His hand tapped on the side of his leg all the while Tris found herself still stuck on the mat.

“Oh,” Tris replied quietly. Her jabs and witty remarks hadn’t prepared her for this. She had been enjoying getting to know Eric but he had been pretty damn good at keeping them at an arm’s distance. This was not only not what she had intended to be talking about genuinely but it also was just completely astounding coming from  _ Eric _ . He was a leader. He was, from what Tris had gleaned over the past few weeks, just doing this because… well… because he was one of the ones that had voted that she should stay. Tris had just assumed that was it. 

She looked up at Eric. “Thank you,” she replied earnestly. Eric nodded tightly before extending a hand to her. She took it, letting him pull her to her feet. 

He didn’t let go right away. Eric ran his thumb over the back of her hand, a soft motion that just as quickly as it had happened stopped. “I was curious about you, first. That night where you just  _ showed up _ because you decided that you weren’t going to get stuck in Abnegation. Like I said then, you were interesting. And then when Lauren and I talked at lunch, she told me that you were trying so hard even though you were going to be behind. She’s stubborn, you see,” he explained.

Tris lifted an eyebrow. “No wonder you two get along,” she remarked. 

Eric smirked at that. “No wonder,” he agreed. “But she had a point and - I don’t know if you’ve realized this either - but she can also be a bit of a bully. Lauren had this idea that since I was the one who broke the tie and decided you could stay, then it was my responsibility to ensure that you had an actual, fair chance.”

“Hence the remedial Dauntless lessons,” Tris said. She knew all of this so far or had at least suspected. It had been obvious at least that Lauren had planned at least for Eric to be there when she nudged Tris into asking for extra help. 

“Yep. But what I really didn’t expect, and what I don’t think that even Lauren counted on unless she is truly psychic and to be feared was for you to catch on so quick. And be so… well,” Eric said with a shake of his head. “You.”

Tris felt her forehead furrow. Eric still hadn’t let go of her hand. The heat from fighting had been sapped by the gym’s cool air and she edged closer to Eric. “What about me, Eric?” Tris asked quietly. 

His thumb again brushed against her hand. Tris found that she didn’t want to take her eyes away from his. Then the spell that had tied them together might break and they would just go back to training like they did every night. He slowly lifted her hand, each inch taking what was surely an eon. 

“I’m not sure,” Eric murmured. His breath fanned over the back of her hand. “I just know I don’t think I would stand it if you weren’t going to make it through. I don’t want you to just survive and limp through, either, Tris. I want you to live, to thrive here in Dauntless.

“I want you to get everything that you want from life and never have to worry about holding yourself back.”

He finished bringing her hand up and oh so briefly pressed his lips to her knuckles. Tris inhaled sharply, overwhelmed by the gesture and his words and everything that he had just revealed to her. 


End file.
